


Umbrella

by Cee5



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 06:18:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cee5/pseuds/Cee5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because I love Mycroft and the drawing that inspired this fic is wonderful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Umbrella

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sentiment](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/24371) by ireallyshouldbedrawing. 



Mycroft got out of the black fancy car and made a gesture to the chauffeur to drive away. He watched the car disappear on the bend of the road and then turned around, facing the cemetery. This was something he needed to do alone. It was strange, what he was feeling, and certainly unusual.

Drops of rain started to fall on him, covering his grey suit with tiny little splashes that made him shiver. He opened his umbrella and walked in, passing between the majestic iron gate. It was covered with spider webs on its corners, and Mycroft deduced it hadn't been cleaned for about two weeks. It was peculiar that in a situation like this he still couldn't help but notice these things. And he had taught Sherlock well. Sherlock… the name felt bitter in his mouth. He was supposed to protect him and he had failed. His brother had come to him again in dreams last night and Mycroft had woken up with an unusual knot on his chest. He had then decided to go to the cemetery. He wasn't sure why, he just couldn't get over the need.

And there he was now, his shiny shoes stepping on the dirt, looking at his younger brother's grave. The black stone reflected his image, the golden letters that spelled his brother's name shone with the scarce light of the day.

"I should have protected you." Mycroft heard himself whispering. "I should have known better."

The tightness on his chest had returned and Mycroft felt the rain falling down his face. Then, he remembered he had his umbrella. That was not rain.

Frightened by his own tears, Mycroft approached his brother's grave and touched the cold stone with his hand. He then placed the umbrella on the ground, stopping the rain from falling on the stone, protecting now who he hadn't been able to. Mycroft walked away, allowing the rain to wash away the tears, providing him a chance to fool himself.

Sentiment. He did not know how to deal with it.

The rain kept falling on the umbrella, making musical sounds with every drop. Far away, hidden in the shadows, Sherlock saw his brother leave the cemetery, walking slowly. That idiot was going to ruin his best suit that was already soaked. Maybe it was time to pay him a discreet visit and return his umbrella. He knew how Mycroft would miss it.


End file.
